Fearless and Free
by Europa22
Summary: One-shot "Everyone thinks I'm a little twit. Everyone thinks that I made one of the largest mistakes a girl in the Hunger Games could make. Everyone is wrong."


**Fearless and Free**

Everyone thinks I'm a little twit. Everyone thinks that I made one of the largest mistakes a girl in the Hunger Games could make.

Everyone is _wrong_.

* * *

Being the mayor's daughter really had its perks. When you wanted something, you simply batted your eyelashes at Daddy and pleaded for whatever it is you want. When you wanted to bring someone down, you started a vicious rumor. Then you pretended that it's horrible anyone would treat them that way and you became the only one who stood by their side. In private, of course. The person completely understood you couldn't tarnish _your_ reputation by being seen with them. When you wanted a boy to like you, you flirted a little bit here, showed a tiny bit of cleavage there, and voila! You had him enthralled until you got bored of your boy toy and moved on.

When you're reaped for the Hunger Games, there was absolutely nothing you can do.

When I heard my name roll off the escort's lips, I was shocked. For some reason, I thought I was _untouchable_. I was the Mayor's daughter! No one could touch me without going through him. For a split second, I thought it was all a sick joke. I thought my father would take the microphone away from the daft escort and smile at me. He would tell me to stay right where I was and that it was all a joke. He would tell me that I was safe as long as he was around.

But, when I stared into his eyes from the crowd, I only saw a cold wall. Daddy's little girl was screwed. And not the good kind of screwed, mind you!

I made my way up to the stage and stared off into the audience. I saw my friends in shock. I saw my latest boy toy almost in tears. Everyone else was emotionless. All the people I had stepped on to get what I wanted didn't even have sneers on their faces. Being sent into the Hunger Games was something no one wished upon another human being in District Eight.

My district partner was some poor kid I didn't know. He appeared to be a few younger than me, probably fourteen. He looked almost stubborn. Hot tears were rolling down his face, and part of me wanted to scoff at how open he was with his emotions. It wasn't until I shook his hand that I realized I was shaking like a leaf.

* * *

The Justice Building was beautiful to me. I had spent a good portion of my childhood here. When my father was in meetings with other officials, I would run down these halls giggling. His secretary, Lonna, would chase me and both of us would have a grand time. At least, it was a grand time in the mind of a six year old.

As I sat on my plush seat waiting for my visitors, I couldn't help but cry. I never thought this would be me. I thought I had a few more years to be a child. A few more years to be a spoiled brat. Then, I would mature and get married to some rich guy that my father set me up with. I would have a couple children, and I would raise them. Then all I would have to worry about is them being reaped, but they wouldn't be. They would never have to put their name in the bowl additional times for food. We would have plenty of money to go around!

Sadly, it was all just a dream now. I knew in my heart that I couldn't win these games.

I heard the doorknob begin to move and I quickly wiped my tears away. I knew my makeup must be smeared, but I didn't care at this particular moment in my life. For once, I wasn't going to make myself be perfect. For once, I was just going to let people see whatever they wanted to see. I wasn't going to be part of the charade right now.

My first visitor was my current boy toy. In all honesty, I was touched he came and visited me. I knew I wouldn't have done the same if our situation were switched. A few of my friends visited me, not as many as I could have liked, but enough. We had tearful goodbyes. It was really a moment to remember if you liked to watch a bunch of backstabbing bitches pretend to be sad for one another.

My mother and father were the next two to come see me. My father was in tears and almost made me cry as well.

The moment was ruined when my mother told me not to embarrass her on national television.

* * *

"And this will be your room for the remainder of the train ride," Cecelia spoke softly as she opened the door.

The room was absolutely magnificent. I quickly realized any presumption I had about being wealthy was null and void in the Capitol. The Capitol had all the wealth in the world if you judged them by this room. Everything was spotless and pristine. I felt as if I was a princess in some sick and twisted fairytale.

"I hope you will join us for dinner. It isn't mandatory, but it would make Woof and I very happy…"

She quickly shut the door behind her and I let out a sigh. I don't remember either of their games, but neither of them seemed very helpful. Cecelia was far too kind and understanding to give me any cutthroat advice and Woof was practically senile.

Not that I could use prementioned cutthroat advice. I doubt I could even hold a knife properly, let alone kill someone with it. I swiftly spent the remainder of my time before dinner cleaning myself up and putting on one of the Capitol provided outfits.

It's almost cruel how they give you such nice things before they decide to kill you.

I walked down the hall into the dining room. My escort, Roland, was sitting there fidgeting with his napkin. Woof was staring off into space, while Cecelia stared out the window.

"Melissa!" Cecelia exclaimed when she saw me, "It's so nice of you to join us!"

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"Peter won't be joining us tonight. He doesn't feel very well," Cecelia sighed.

The rest of the dinner was almost completely silent. Roland seemed almost depressed and didn't look at anyone or anything except his food. Woof was slurping up his soup a tad bit like a dog, which amused me greatly. Cecelia tried to start a conversation a few times, but no one really replied. I wondered if it was like this every year. Everyone knew that the tributes were going to die, including the tributes, so they just gave up. When I thought about it, the District Eight tributes were almost always bloodbaths. The only people that constantly made it past the bloodbaths were the Careers, District Seven, and District Ten. Everyone else who made it past the bloodbath was usually random. Sometimes those 'random' people went on to win, but it wasn't very often. The winner was usually a Career, which made perfect sense to me. If you trained for something your entire life, why wouldn't you succeed at it?

For instance, part of what I trained for my entire life was to be a politician's wife like my mother. I learned who to play nice with, and who it didn't matter what I did around. If the Hunger Games were politics, I might have a fair shot at them. If the Hunger Games were an insult contest, I'd win hands down.

But they're not.

"Time for the Reapings," Cecelia piped up.

"Oh joy," I murmured under my breath.

We made our way into another room that had a television that almost took up one entire wall. By now, the Capitol's fetish with large things really didn't surprise me anymore. In fact, it was starting to get annoying.

Cecelia turned on the Reapings and I watched almost aimlessly. The only people that caught my attention were the Careers. The girl from District One was drop dead gorgeous, the District Two boy muscles practically bulged out of his shirt, and the District Two girl looked vicious.

However, when we got to my reaping, I was almost aghast because of how completely and utterly _weak_ I looked. My pale brown hair looked almost brittle and my lip was quivering like a small child! My entire petite body was shaking and my blue eyes were darting everywhere. I appeared to be nothing more than a bloodbath. A weakling.

I was _forgettable_.

* * *

"That was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me," I screamed as I rushed onto my floor in the Training Center. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and the hot tears that slid down my face.

"It wasn't as bad as you think," Peter muttered.

"Oh what would you know! You've never had an image to keep up, you little imbecile," I screeched.

"Melissa, watch your tongue," Cecelia scolded as she ran into the room after Peter and me.

"Will you stop trying to be everyone's friend! It makes you look pathetic," I hissed.

Before anyone else could reply and tell me that I was being a child; that I was overreacting; that I was being irrational, I stormed off towards my room.

I slammed the door behind me and made sure to lock it. I raced to the vanity in the corner, ripping the ribbons out of my hair on the way.

_I couldn't breathe. _

I tore frantically at the dress and did everything in my ability to rid this _disaster_ from my body. I slammed my hands on the vanity and glared at my reflection in the mirror. My makeup was completely over the top and theatrical. My blush was put on far too heavily, and my eye makeup was gaudy and ostentatious!

I ran to the bathroom, wetted a cloth, and raced back to my vanity. I scrubbed my face raw trying to get every speck of makeup off my face. I heard someone banging on my bedroom door but I tuned it out.

When I looked in the mirror again, I was happy for a split second. All I saw was myself, and that's all I needed out of life. However, I quickly saw the shreds of the dress I had just been wearing and cringed.

My stylist, if he should even be called that, dressed me up in the most ridiculous costume I had ever seen! The dress was a patchwork full of different materials, except none of the materials matched each other! He put childish ribbons in my hair, and put so much makeup on my face that I'm pretty sure every pore I plugged! Peter looked no better, and when we were sent out we were the laughing stock of the nation. Barely anyone in the Capitol cheered for us, and I could practically hear the people back in District Eight insulting me. They were calling me stupid and frivolous. They were judging me all because of some stupid Capitol stylist!

I wanted to be beautiful today. I wanted to be the girl that everyone back home would be proud of. The girl that none of them would forget. Instead, I was just a twit. Everyone in Panem saw me as nothing more than an idiot, and I couldn't take that. My entire life I had been building an image for myself. I was the girl that all the guys paid attention to. I was the girl who could get a whole room to do anything she wanted at the snap of her fingers. I was the girl who was rich and brilliant. When you had those two attributes, what else did you need? Did you need to be compassionate and friendly? No, I could be a complete bitch and no one would care because they know I could always find something worse to do to them. If it wasn't for these stupid Hunger Games, I would still be Queen Bee! I would be the one who could stand up to anyone or anything and be fearless.

For some reason, the one girl who emulated how I felt was the poor girl from District Twelve. She was on _fire_ tonight! She looked brave and unstoppable. For once, I wanted to feel that way. No matter what the cost, I just wanted to feel fearless…

* * *

"Fire is essential in the Hunger Games! Without it, you wouldn't be able to get warmth! You wouldn't be able to cook food! Without it, you…"

The fire building training instructor droned on and on as I struggled to build a fire. Eventually, I got it going, but not before someone already beat me to the bunch. The District Ten female beams at her achievement. I stand up, leave, and roll my eyes as I walk to another station.

Before I can get the next station, someone whispers, "What you're jealous?"I turn around to see the terrifying one from District Two smirking at me.

"No, I'm just tired of that station," I stuttered out. For some reason, every ounce of confidence left my body as she stared at me. Her blue eyes were twinkling with amusement and she stepped closer.

"Oh no, I think you're just jealous," the girl said in a demanding tone.

"I have nothing to be jealous of. If I'm building a fire, I doubt I'll need to build it speedily," I countered.

"It's better to have that skill than none at all," she degraded.

"Are you implying something," I seethed.

"I'm implying that you're untalented," the girl smirked as she stepped closer, "Do you disagree?"

The girl was standing toe to toe with me. I was taller than her by at least three or four inches, but just her presence was almost bone chilling.

"I said, do you disagree," she snarled as she grabbed my shirt.

"No," I whimpered.

She quickly let go and smirked at me again, "Good."

I heard her let out a shrill laugh as she sauntered away. I glanced at her as she headed towards the Careers, no doubt about to brag about her latest conquest.

I let out a small sound of disgust as I walked over to the camouflage station.

_Why didn't I stand up to her?_

* * *

"So you're still up?" Peter asked as he walked into the room. I simply nodded as I sipped my tea and stared out the window at the Capitol.

"It's weird to think we're going to be in the arena in less than twenty-four hours," Peter muttered.

"At least you have a chance," I suddenly hissed back.

Peter was a complete liar. He made it out that he was weak. In fact, he made it out that he a bit daft too! But, wouldn't you know it; he got a seven as his training score. He got a freaking _seven_! Now, he and Fire Girl have the highest chances out of any of the non-Careers to win the Hunger Games. It sickens me to the core.

"You do too," he encouraged as he sat down beside me.

"I've never heard of a stuck up priss who gets a three in training winning the Hunger Games," I barked.

'You're not stuck up…"

"Oh don't argue with me! I've treated you horribly ever since we were reaped! Of course I'm a stuck up priss!"

"Fear does that to people," Peter sighed.

"I am not afraid," I snarled.

"It's not a bad thing to be afraid. I'm scared too…"

The silence after his comment hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't want to admit to myself, let alone a stranger, that I was scared. Back home, being scared wasn't an option. If I was scared, I couldn't show it. Otherwise, people would have torn me apart. My mother would have been ashamed of me. My father would have started to have his tantrums again…

"I'm not like you! I'm totally confident in the fact that I'm going to die tomorrow, and I'm not scared one bit," I choked out.

"You've always been such a terrible liar, Melissa," Peter whispers.

"_Excuse m_e!" I screech.

"You heard me," he mutters, "You're a terrible liar. Sure, you can fool all those people who want to see what you're lying about. You can fool the people who don't care whether you're being honest or not. But you can't fool me. If it makes you feel better, though, everyone is a terrible liar from my perspective…"

"Oh, so not only can you fight like a Career but you can read minds too," I mocked.

"No, I just can tell when people are being honest or not," he shrugged.

There were a couple more minutes of silence as I sipped my tea.

"Just a smidge of advice," Peter sighed as he stood up, "Don't let your fear hold you back. If you want to make a stand, make a stand. If you want to live, fight for it. If you want to die, just let it happen. Don't let anything hold you back…"

Peter walked away, and before he got out of eyeshot I called out his name. He spun around and looked at me curiously.

"What do you want?" I asked quietly.

"I want what everyone wants. To be free…"

* * *

The gong sounded and I got on my knees. I quickly scooped up the supplies around me and stuffed them into my pockets. I hear someone let out a scream and I glanced over at Fire Girl as the District Nine boy fell. He had a knife imbedded in his back, and I saw the girl who harassed me during my first day of training run towards her.

I swiftly raced forwards and set my sights on a bright red backpack. Right before I was within reach of it, my eyes wandered and stopped. Peter was fighting off the District One boy with a spear. He was fighting almost as well as the Career, but he quickly glanced at me. He shot me one of the most dazzling smiles before he dropped his spear. Marvel sent his spear right into Peter's chest and Peter hit the ground.

Peter let Marvel kill him.

Death was the way Peter got his freedom.

I looked back down at the red backpack, but now the District Two girl was sprinting towards me. She threw a knife and it sailed through the air towards me. I let out a small shriek and dove out of the way. I scrambled to my feet and ran towards the cover of the forest. I could hear someone else running behind me, but I didn't dare look back. My feet pounded against the ground and I made it out of the bloodbath unscathed.

However, I continued to run and didn't stop. I didn't let my brain think of anything else except escaping. The only thing that kept me going was thinking about freedom

I watched as the light slowly began to fade from the sky. As of this moment, I was collapsed on the ground, sucking in as much oxygen as possible. I had never, _ever_ run so long and fast in my life. Of course, I wasn't able to keep up a constant speed, but I never stopped moving until a few minutes ago.

* * *

I wanted to drink some water, but I realized for the twentieth time today that I had gotten almost nothing in the bloodbath. The only items I got were those I grabbed at the very beginning, and that was only a box of matches and a spear head.

I stared at the sky and let out a long sigh. I felt completely drained. Before, I was terrified of dying, but right now, all I wanted to do was to finish this stupid game. I know I had been in the arena for less than a day, but I wasn't cut out for this! I knew I wouldn't be able to kill anyone and there was no way I was ever going to be able to figure out this nature crap! I was either going to starve in the next few days or be brutally murdered by some other tribute.

Maybe if I was lucky, I'd be ripped to shreds by a muttation!

The Capitol makes me sick…

Peter's words flashed through my mind.

_Don't let anything hold you back…_

I slowly rose to my feet and began to walk again.

I wasn't going to let anything hold me back. I was going to take my fate into my own hands! I knew I wasn't going to get out of this arena alive, but I still had the time to choose my own way to leave it!

For the next hour, I struggled to find a fairly open area. I finally found the perfect place that was circled by trees. There was a fairly big opening to the sky, which would definitely help show my location from miles away.

I swiftly picked up anything decomposable that I could find. After another few minutes, I made a sturdy pile. I hesitated slightly when I pulled out the matchbox.

Was this a good idea? Did I really want to go out this way?

Suddenly, the Capitol anthem played. I glanced up at the sky as the faces flashed by. I winced when I saw Peter's shy smile flash across the sky. He took matters into his own hands and let the Careers slay him… But could I be that brave?

The thing that hardened my resolve wasn't Peter. It was when the face of the District Ten girl, the one who built a fire before I could even get my pile set up, was in the sky. For some reason, this almost brought out a competitive side in me.

It was time to show them all what I was made of.

* * *

I heard their footsteps. They weren't being discreet in the least, but it didn't matter. We both knew I wouldn't be able to escape. What they didn't know is that I didn't want to escape.

"Well lookey here," a voice chimed, "It seems to me that someone didn't think about the consequences of lighting a fire in the middle of the night."

I opened my eyes and pretended like I had just woken up.

"Oh joy it's the little twit from training," the District Two girl laughed.

Instead of saying anything, I just stared them down. The funny thing was that each of them had different thoughts running through their heads. The District One girl looked like she was worrying if she was a convincing enough Career. The District One boy seemed almost nervous, while the District Two girl looked almost thrilled. I was surprised to the District Twelve boy allied with the Careers, and he seemed to be as well. He appeared to be praying that this would end quickly. Then there was the leader of the pack. His eyes were ice cold and betrayed nothing.

"Do you have anything to say, or are you too terrified to talk," the District Two girl continued.

Now it was my time to shine.

"Oh, do you want this," I spoke coldly.

Suddenly, I changed my entire facial expression into a mask of pure terror and screamed out at the top of my lunges, "Oh please don't kill me! I beg you! I'll do anything! I could be a great asset to you! I could clean, and cook, and heal you when you're injured! Just don't kill me! Please!"

My cries were loud and I bet anyone from miles away could have heard them. Every other tribute in the arena thought I was just another victim of the Careers.

When I was done screaming, I just burst out into quieter chuckles.

"What's so funny?" The District Two boy growled.

"You think you're so bad and tough," I spoke emotionlessly, "You feel as though you're gods in here. Well, news flash, you're just as weak as everyone else. You can play dress up all you want, but underneath you're just as vulnerable as the rest of us."

"You little bi-" the District Two girl began.

"I'm not scared of you anymore! I used to be! When I was little, I'd watch the Hunger Games and the Careers terrified me. But now, I just don't care. The worst thing you can do to me is kill me, and I'm not afraid of death either. Sure, you could make it painful, but I'd eventually die. No matter what you do to me, it can't last forever."

"So are those your last words before I run my sword through your gut," the District Two boy yawns as he walks closer.

"I want to kill her Cato!" his district partner whined.

"We don't have time for your little games, Clove," he growled.

"No, my last words are that while I'm free as a bird, all of you are going to be stuck here. I chose this because I could finally say what I've wanted to say for _years_ and not care what the people back home think of me. They can respect me or think I'm stupid. Either way, it won't matter because I'll be dead," I laughed almost hysterically.

"She's crazy," The District One girl whispered.

Maybe she was right. Perhaps I was a tad bit insane. However, it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. I was making my own decision! I never got to make my own decisions! I always had to do what I was told when I was told! If I didn't, I would be yelled at. I would sometimes be hit. But none of that matters anymore! No one can take away this sudden freedom I have.

Cato swiftly brought his sword down upon me and I let out a bloodcurdling scream. It felt like someone had set a fire cracker off in my stomach. The pain shot through my body and I simply laid there. I heard Clove let out her hyena laughs, and then they slowly stalked away.

A sudden terror took hold of me.

No, they couldn't leave me! They had to finish the job! They couldn't just leave me here to bleed to death!

I tried to move, tried to make noises to signal to them that I was still alive. A few minutes of pure horror passed before I heard a single pair of footsteps approach.

The District Twelve boy approached.

"You're here to finish the job," I managed to ask hopefully.

A sudden light of compassion came into his eyes and he nodded.

"What's your name," I murmured.

"Peeta…"

"Melissa…"

He nodded and pulled out his knife. I smiled and closed my eyes. The pain blossomed in my chest and everything began to fade to black.

And, for the first time, I was fearless and free… I was finally free…

* * *

Everyone thinks that I didn't make a difference. In fact, no one remembers me except as the girl who got herself killed by either making a foolish mistake or losing her mind.

What they don't know is that my words reached the ears of a certain person in my home District. My aunt was listening to me as I lay on the ground. She heard me when I said that the Careers were just as vulnerable as us. That the _Capitol_ was just as vulnerable as us. She heard me say that I got to finally make my own decision, and she wanted that same right.

Because of me, my aunt became President Paylor of Panem.

Because of me, she led Panem fearlessly and freed the people from their bonds…

That's a pretty big achievement for a stuck up priss, don't you think?


End file.
